


The Weird-Assed Mind of Laura Charenko

by Hidaney



Category: Roblox (Video Game)
Genre: Arseloads of OCs, Gen, Mary Sue, Multi, Parody, post-apoc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:25:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hidaney/pseuds/Hidaney
Summary: The life and times of one professional looter, thief, fence, legit (for real this time) merchant, mechanic, alcoholic, ,and (former)slave Laura Charenko, who likes 20s style jazz, the bar in Cranetown, and is 3/4 convinced her life is a work of fiction in an alternate universe or something. What kind? She doesn't know. Doesn't stop her from narrating her thoughts all the time. Also, her quest to SAVE THE WORLD (or something) alongside her best friend Rob, and a Mary Sue.(Unfinished )(Sporadic Updates)(Story Subject to Major Changes with No Notice)





	1. An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the RP place After the Flash: Rain [5]. See the wiki for fluff and background info.  
> URL Here:  
> http://aftertheflash.wikia.com/wiki/After_The_Flash_Wiki  
> Also A Disclaimer:I don't claim dis

Well, here's my life, audience. If you exist, and I ain't just a crazy bastard, if one who hides it well.

Name's Laura, Laura Charenko in full. Merchant, mechanic, thief, fence, general shady stuff, and occasional hooker, if the money's right. Got on an orange prison jacket, with "inmate" stenciled on one of the breast pockets obatined from..., well, you'll find out later. A rather ornate brown leather hood, sewed on pretty well, apprently stiching wounds is the same as fabric. Not that I did this. My friend Rob offered to do it for free, nice guy that he is.

 

An ID badge on a lanyard 'round my neck. (Convenient lockpick and nothing else. Definitely) Anyway, back on track. One of those "themed" school-age kiddy backpacks, something about Smurfs, whatever the hell those are, bit faded. Some old US army surplus uniform pants made for desert use. Damn full of pockets. On the back and sides, and that's just some. Plus some military kneepads,more pockets under the straps.

 

Some cheap, gas-station, amber lensed shades, purple and blue frames, and some plastic slime or whatever on the arms. Plus a bandage for that fuck-arsed leg wound. (Damn mother-fucking sandsharks). Not that you can see it, as it's under the pants. Some old USCPF combat boots.

As for weapons, I have an Ithica pump-action shotgun with a small black gunlight attached to the side, loaded with slugs, a Heckler and Koch USP 9mm in a hip holster, right side. The shotty's hanging vertically in between my backpack and my, well, back./p>

Oh right, forgot one, got a weird themed backpack, something about "smurfs", which I assume are the weird-arsed blue things, looking for a lost village or some shit, on the back. But what're you gonna do,eh? It's bigger than most other people's and who needs a water tank when you've got more space for bottles?

So anyway, back to the present. The CDF's running its regular merchant shakedown, and I'm a just a tiny bit short on the tax money, but eh, I can probably make it up with some free repairs, or lift it some from some poor, unsuspecting pocket. Or just throw in some parts. Now, time to get me some scotch 'fore the guards get here. The good kind too, not the usual "My piss tastes better than this" fething kriff most Dew is 'round here.

\--------------------------------------------------------

And that's the end of this chapter. What'd you guys and girls, and the myriad other genders people identify as (both, neither, attack helicopter...) think? And for you gun nuts, "Ithica" isn't a typo, it's how it is spelled in-game.


	2. I Give Some More Backstory

Wish my drinking buddy Rob was here. This stuff is easier to down when you're buddy's doing it too. Well, he ain't gonna be back any time soon, so I might as well  finish this bottle of scotch. Oh!, right, you guys probably want some background now. Well, I can do both. So, uh, where should I start? Physical description and such sounds good? I will assume you said yes. Ok, so, daughter of an Ukrainian expat, my dad, and my mother's a Yank. 

  
I know some expletives from pretty much every language ever. The common ones, anyway. 29 years, age wise. Brown eyes, rather dark, somewhere around plain 'ol coffee. Slightly milky coffee, that is. I'm a bit fonder of alcohol than I should be. Weight's somewhere around 90 pounds, 93 maybe? As for height, I'm at 5 1/2 feet, so average I guess.  
Lets see, what else. Well, you don't need to hear all about my childhood right now, and even if you did, it's not something I tell to people I've just met. Don't really know why, but it just doesn't fell right.

Wait, who the bloody hell is that? What kinda bloody hair is that? Are those dots? Multi-coloured dots? Unless my ability to not get drunk has suddenly weakened, and alcohol started causing hallucinations, I do believe this is one of the strangest people I've ever seen. Two katanas, no other weapons? What's she supposed to do, parry the bullets? A kevlar... sundress? And glowing. Although at least it's just single tone purple. Wonder where she got purple kevlar though. 

Wait, is that a fucking tail? And did it just change color?

Aw hell, she's coming over here.

Shite


	3. What The Bloody Shit?

Wait, is that someone over there talking into their sleeve?

Crap, that weirdo with the dress (Isn't that kinda impractical?) coming over here.

Her:Hello, my name's Alexandria Raven Sakura Blossom Sapphire Flawlessa! My friends call me Alex.

Me:I see why. So why are you talking to me?

Alex: I just wanted to say how horribly sorry I feel about what you went through, Laura! How you were a slave! How you had to live on the streets, stealing to survive! How you were raised by a thief, after having to leave your parents behind, not knowing if they were even alive! How you had to run again and flee here after the slaves caught up with you! Leaving all you knew behind again! Almost as bad as my past!

Me:What...

Alex:I won't burden you with my horrible, abusive past, sold into prostitution after...

Me:Wait, hold on a bloody second there. How do you know my name? And my fucking past? Seriously, who the hell are you?

Alex:...And then I was kidnapped by evil USCPF soldiers, who brought me to Fort Outlook as love slave. I barely escaped, I had to use my special powers of pure purity to escape!

Yes, she blatantly ignored my question. No, I don't know what the hell she means by "powers". Wait, pure purity? Did she really just say that?

So, anyway, about the whole thing "slave" thing she mentioned. Yeah, I was born a slave, managed to escape, finally, at 17. I was lost, no money, rags on my back, when I found him. Nice old guy on the outside, and pretty nice on the inside too, but he was a thief. Emphasis on was.

Past his prime, but he trained me and a couple other kids, some former slaves, like me, others orphaned, abandoned or simply needing money. He's where I learnt lockpicking, pickpocketing, all that fun stuff. Only good thing I ever got from slavery, was a nice sob story. Well, and how to make a shiv, but that's not exactly hard.


End file.
